


Can You Look At Me Yet?

by Purplish_Rain



Series: Long Road To Forgiveness [1]
Category: The Orville (TV)
Genre: F/M, Forgiveness takes time, Introspection, Light Angst, RoboDoc, interpretating feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-18 02:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplish_Rain/pseuds/Purplish_Rain
Summary: Two months had passed since the Kaylon invasion, and Isaac finally has time to think about things and relationships





	Can You Look At Me Yet?

**Author's Note:**

> This series is dedicated to those starved for more RoboDoc (or Clisaac?)

Isaac refused to dwell on the idea of the Doctor “under his skin”, as the Captain so crudely put it. It was a wildly inaccurate statement - no - _accusation_ , and he was quick to dismiss any talk or thought of “feelings”. What Isaac was willing to ponder was the sudden absence of all things Finn.

With the abrupt disappearance of Claire from his every day routine, that unfortunately meant that Ty’s piano lessons came to an end as well. That also meant he would be absent at the Finn dinner table where the mother and children consumed their evening meal while he scanned over Marcus’ homework, which was coming up with less errors as the days advanced forward with Isaac’s blunt pointers.

As an artificial life-form, he was unable to experience enjoyment, contentment, accomplishment, or happiness, but what he could say with certainty was that while his entire time on the ship up until two months ago was seen as a giant research mission, the periods in which he spent in the presence of the Finns was not seen as purely work related. So now, as Isaac stood with his front facing the galaxy passing just outside his window, his hands held out close by his hips with his fingers flexing without much thought, he couldn’t help but realize that he had nothing to analyze, nothing to research, and nothing to _observe_ until his shift started.

Isaac felt no need to sit, yet he still reached out and brought the chair nestled underneath his desk closer to place himself in. With his hands on his knees and his optical sensors staring at the wall, the artificial life-form began to analyze the definition of “forgiveness”.

Forgiveness: the action or process of forgiving or being forgiven…

Forgiving: ready and willing to forgive…

Forgive: stop feeling angry or resentful toward someone for an offense, flaw, or mistake…

It was not within his code or wiring to carry out such a thing as a “mistake”, but there was no other way to describe the actions of his fellow race, and the actions his kind forced him to commit. It seemed highly unnecessary to exterminate all biological life, and if Isaac didn’t know any better, it seemed like a plan rooted from resentment rather than practicality.

Impossible. Kaylon were able to process countless numbers of data and information, but what they were _unable_ to process were emotions and the link between them and corruption and destruction of themselves by themselves.

However… there was a point in time where Isaac was ruled by impractical ideas and offerings as well. If he were really to have remained true to his own race, he would have seen the necessity and agreed in terminating Ty. The young boy had fooled them with masking the message sent to the Union, and any other Kaylon would not have hesitated in killing Ty.

And yet… Isaac found a reason in keeping him alive. Not only that, but he was willing to accept full responsibility for the boy’s future actions, and it seemed so easy and natural to do so. The only thing he found easier was the choice between Kaylon Primary’s existence and Ty’s. He could not explain how or why his actions were executed so smoothly as he betrayed the Kaylon one blast at a time, but he never had time to question or ponder it… until now.

Isaac’s whole body twitched - almost like he came alive with a sudden surge of electricity - as he was brought forth from his internal analyzation. Why _did_ he give everything up the moment Ty’s life was in direct danger? Why was he becoming less and less acutely aware and critical of the action of hand holding with the oldest and youngest Finns? Who was going to correct Marcus’ homework on the nights that Isaac knows the Doctor is held back with work?

He stood abruptly, the chair scooting back a few feet. He turned to examine the clock, and found that his estimation of the time was drastically off. It was as though at least an hour or so had passed since the ending of his shift, but the clock proved that it had only been about fifteen minutes. He was left with a dilemma: respect the Doctor’s wishes of limiting their contact to just when necessary or bypass them to get the answers that were just beyond his reach…

***

There was never a point to hesitation when it came to Isaac. An objective would always require the necessary course of action, so there was really no use in prolonging the inevitable. Except… why wouldn’t his hand raise to the intercom beside the Finn’s quarters? He observed the call button with a much greater focus than intended, and soon caught himself performing an out-of-character act: he was stalling. And in his act of stalling, several questions and contradictions made themselves known.

What would he say in the presence of the Doctor? Would she give him a chance to explain? And if she was gracious enough to grant him that, how could he even _begin_ to bring life to his account? In retrospect, his easy compliance was surely a slap in the face to those who felt as though they were the closest to him…

And now he wasn’t close to anyone anymore. Isaac could tell when the whole Bridge was giving him the side eye when his back was turned. He could pick up on Lieutenant Malloy’s rigid posterior when the Science Officer arrived for his shift in the early hours of the morning. The guarded eye of Captain Mercer was always locked onto some part of him, whether it be out of his peripheral vision or flat out staring at Isaac. Commander Grayson’s wounded trust was harder to detect by an artificial life-form, what with her masking smiles and polite mannerisms when speaking an order, but anyone else could see the tight lips and the forced teeth coupled with her unblinking eyes and just _know_.

But the biggest betrayal that Isaac was stuck on was the absolute thunderstruck look written so clear as day across the Doctor’s face when everything began happening at once. His deactivation, the Orville’s beseech of Kaylon’s assistance, the abrupt decision of staying on his home planet, the _revelation_ …

“ _I don’t know who you are… I never did._ ”

It was a harsh, venom-laced, _factual_ accusation that he had no valid argument against. Of course the true reasoning behind his assignment on the Orville was kept secret, and he did have to admit that not just his motives were hidden in a shroud of mystery. Isaac was not really what anyone would call “forthcoming” with the details of his origin or even his existence before the Orville. It was brought to his attention that such details should be communicated between two individuals who sought after a relationship of longevity and “mutual support” as Claire had said to him one night when he was exceptionally curious.

There was, however, another glaring fact to acknowledge: there was hardly a relationship between them at all. It was of no other fault than his own, and to the artificial life-form, that was a _flaw_. He had committed a great offense to the entire Union fleet, more importantly to the Doctor and her children, and while he was incapable of translating guilt, he cross-referenced it until he reached “deception”. _Ah…_

Perfect or imperfect, intellectually advanced or intellectually stunted, caring or uncaring… all was capable of deceiving one another, and while Isaac was unable to feel the violent sting of deception and betrayal, he understood enough to know he deserved every glare, mutter, and scoff from his fellow crew members. What he did not deserve was to knock on the Finn family’s door before he was summoned to do so.

Isaac’s hands balled into semi-fists as he turned away from the door, the call button remaining untouched. He attempted to make the best logical guess of how much time had transpired since he arrived outside the Finn quarters, but it appeared his guessing was - to crudely put it - _faulty_ at the moment. What he could say was there was a newfound sense of urgency pulsing beneath his plating and wires; An urgency to slip away without a hint of detecti-

“Isaac?”

It was a near breathless whisper that was so sudden, but that wasn’t what had him coming to life in an almost comical rendition of fright, no, it was the familiar lilt that accompanied the voice.

“Dr. Finn…” was all Isaac could say as Claire approached her door.

“What are you doing outside of my quarters?” she asked, her eyes narrowing further and further with suspicion with every step.

“I…” - he searched every data bank, but failed to narrow down his response - “I must admit I do not know… Doctor.”

“You?” sputtered Claire, her lips involuntarily curling into an incredulous smile. “Don’t know something?”

“Affirmative,” came Isaac’s short response, his once-fluid movements now entirely robotic.

Claire opened her mouth, but realized fairly quickly that she had nothing to really say. She bit at her lower lip as it was her turn to observe Isaac. The soft blue hue staring right back into her was a sharp contrast from the harsh red glow signature of other Kaylons, and now really wasn’t the time for her chest to flare with intense emotions that she had previously reserved for the artificial life-form.

Because every time Claire found herself lingering on an intimate thought of Isaac, it was scorched and melted away by white-hot anger. The tears that raced down Ty’s cheeks when he bolted upright in bed, still wracked from the nightmares plaguing him in the night… The bitter enmity that followed Marcus around like a shadow, ready to lash out in scorn… The drained morning shifts she had to endure after _another_ sleepless night...

“It would be wise if you left before either of the boys saw you,” said Claire firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument, not that Isaac was offering any.

“Right away, Doctor,” said Isaac, his body already jolting into action halfway through his words.

Claire shivered as she felt him sidestep her, and whirled on her heel to watch him go. Her mouth opened and closed in a way that had her resembling a goldfish as indecision draped over her. It was too soon, and she had just gotten off work, and it was too late into the night, and she wasn’t ready! Yet… the more distance that Isaac put between them only fueled a desperation that she tried so hard to bury deep down and never allow sunlight or eyes to see.

“Wait!” she called, regret instantly blooming within her chest when it came out as more of a plea than an afterthought.

Isaac halted immediately, and turned his body around to face Claire.

"Yes?"

There were several things to be said, too many nails to strike dead on the head, but not one word was willing to dance out onto the tip of her tongue. Isaac’s current face could show no ticks, no emotion, and yet there was a certain something that Claire could just read. She would either call the gaze aimed upon her as “completely imploring” or “just really focused”, but either way it had her feeling _heard_ , even though she wasn’t ready to be listened to just yet…

“I know you’re capable of running self-diagnostics, but I would like it if you would stop by my office sometime for my own diagnosis.”

It was a small offering; A future invitation for when they both were clear and comprehensive. Isaac had run several self-diagnostics in the span of two months, but the idea of a second pair of eyes (eyes that belonged to the Doctor no less) had an appeal that had Isaac finding multiple supportive arguments for.

“Would you like to do so now, Doctor?” Issac inquired, his hands held out openly.

“You still don’t pick up social cues or subtle hints, do you?” countered Claire, her own hand reaching up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. “No, Isaac, not right now… and maybe make it another week.”

“As you wish,” said Isaac, his faint ticks now as fluid as they once were. “I have created a high-prioritized reminder set for one week.”

“Right, okay,” said Claire rather shortly, unwilling to allow herself to fall for any of his inadvertent flattery. “Don’t be late.”

“As I will be expecting the appointment all week, I will surely arrive on schedule,” Isaac informed almost dutifully, but Claire had learned how to translate bits and pieces.

_ I’ll be looking forward to it. _

Claire nodded wordlessly, and there was a brief pause where all they could do was stare at each other. It lasted a moment before Isaac recognized the ending of the conversation.

“Goodnight, Doctor,” he said before turning around without waiting for a response.

He was gone in the blink of an eye, almost like he needed to disappear before he overstayed his welcome. Claire couldn’t figure out the motive behind Isaac’s sudden appearance outside of her quarters, but she had an early shift in the morning, and she couldn’t spend all night trying. Her following actions of punching in the code to her door and stepping through before closing it were all on autopilot, but as the gentle _whoosh_ sounded as the door slid shut before her face, she couldn’t help but whisper out as well.

“Goodnight, Isaac,”


End file.
